


Coffee Talk

by at_thezenith



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Past Child Abuse, Teacher AU, Tooth Rotting Fluff, cliches, clichés everywhere, literally everyone is a background character except remus and sirius, sirius never was part of the marauders, the author attempts humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/at_thezenith/pseuds/at_thezenith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus is beginning another year of teaching English. He's had the same office for two years, and it's his own space. So when Sirius Black turns up and says he's been told to share the space, Remus realizes it's going to be an interesting year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was quiet, his corner office. Peaceful, almost. Teaching a bunch of secondary schoolers meant that any type of respite, even the smallest, was welcome.

Remus sighed, and leaned back in his chair. There was a half full coffee mug on his desk, still warm, along with two potted plants; one on the desk, one on the window sill. He took a sip, grateful for the fact that Molly, bless her soul, knew exactly how he took his coffee. Black, with one sugar. Always had been since he’d first started drinking it; one cup at breakfast, one at break, and one in the afternoon.

He wasn’t due to teach for another two hours, thank God, since his GCSE class had gone on some trip for the day, which meant more time for coffee and naps. He’d taken to bringing his plaid blanket with him to school, because recurring nightmares did not equal a good night’s sleep. Still, it was pretty unprofessional, and if McGonagall caught him, he’d be in the doghouse for certain. Dumbledore, he was pretty sure, wouldn’t mind, in fact he’d probably join him, since the man was at least seventy, no matter what people tried to tell him about ‘retirement age’.

Today, though, he just couldn’t sleep, and maybe it had something to do with the extra cup of coffee he’d had at break because of his total lack of sleep last night, or maybe it had something to do with the man who had just appeared in his office.

And _damn_ , was he willing to give up nap time for this.

The guy that walked in had long, black hair, which he’d shoved up into a messy bun, and light grey eyes that honest-to-god _once-overed_ Remus, as if he was someone who regularly got checked out. His mouth pulled up into an easy grin, and he sauntered - yes, _sauntered_ \- over and held out his hand. “Hey. I’m Sirius Black, new drama teacher.”

Remus looked from his hand up to Sirius’ face, slightly overwhelmed. “Uh, Remus. Remus Lupin. English.”

Sirius grinned wider. “English, eh? Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, then. Y’know, because our subjects are very much _interlinked_.”

Wait, wait. Was this very attractive, very confident man flirting with him?

He must have been asleep. There was no other explanation for this. “Sure, I guess. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing in my office?”

Sirius glanced around the room and shrugged. “Apparently the school’s short on offices, so the old Scottish lady said I could share with you. Charming lady, that McGee, really.”

Remus almost choked on his coffee. “McGonagall? Charming? Are you sure you weren’t talking to someone else?” He had the utmost respect for the woman, really, but she certainly wasn’t someone who he would call charming. That label would most definitely go to this man, even though he’d only been talking to him for five minutes.

“Oh sure, once you get past the thirty-six layers of grouchy old-woman-ness and the odd cat smell, she’s quite the sweetheart.” Sirius was grinning again, slightly mockingly now, so Remus risked a small grin of his own back. “So, d’you mind if I set up my crap?”

“Of course, I’ll just move the stuff by the window.” He swiftly got up and pushed the small bookcase and lamp over to beside his desk, giving Sirius the other window to set his stuff up by. Whilst Sirius had his back turned, Remus quickly pinched himself. Judging by the throbbing pain on his wrist, this was not a dream.

Perfect. He was going to have to share a rather small office with a very attractive man for a year. He wondered if this was the universe’s way of playing a practical joke on him.

As far as he could tell, Sirius wasn’t exactly one for conformity or pop culture, given the titles of the albums he set next to the small stereo he’d brought in.

Remus glanced over and raised an eyebrow. “Really? Thin Lizzie?”

Sirius turned and smiled sheepishly. “Hey, all I grew up listening to was classical music. I only got to branch out when I turned sixteen, which was about ten years ago now.”

Oh, so he was the same age, was he? Thanks, universe. “Besides,” Sirius added, “you’re one to talk.”

“What?”

Now Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You have a record player for God’s sake. Tell me that doesn’t scream ‘hipster as fuck’.”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “I like it…”

His new colleague burst out laughing. “I’m only pulling your leg, I like vinyl too. Couldn’t exactly bring mine on the Tube, though, could I?”

That didn’t seem to have stopped him from bringing in three huge bags of stuff, however. Aside from the old as shit stereo and CDs (although was he really one to talk, given that he had a record player from the _seventies_ ), he had brought a giant pinboard - “I get stressed if I don’t have at least _something_ organised in my office” - which already had a schedule, a picture of a large, shaggy-haired dog panting at the camera, and several post-it notes tacked to it, a pile of both fiction and text books, mostly sci-fi, if Remus was reading the titles right. Also pulled from the depths of the bag was a tangle of wires that did god-knew-what, several pencil cases, two ‘campfire’ scented candles, and a small, blue desk lamp.

In a smaller, fabric bag, he had a few cacti, a framed photo (He couldn’t see who it was of, but the subject seemed to have dark hair, similar to Sirius’), a leather-bound journal, a pair of glasses that Remus almost hyperventilated over - because honestly, carrying very-scratchable items unprotected next to fucking cacti was never a good idea - and a tiny black stuffed dog, which he set in pride of place right next to his computer.

“Aaaahh,” he sighed, stretching his hands above his head, and dear god Remus needed to keep his eyes off his stomach from now on, otherwise things were going to get very awkward very fast, “I feel better now I’ve marked my territory.” He slumped down in the chair and shut his eyes. “Thank God I don’t have to teach for a couple of hours. I don’t think I can deal with any more annoying questions today.”

Remus looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Sirius turned his head and grinned, and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore, and in his place sat a cocky, irritating fourteen-year-old. “Sir, what does monologue mean? Yeah, but sir, you can’t talk to the audience, that’s like, really weird.”

Remus laughed, and joined in. “How do you spell adverb, sir? Are you sure it’s not double b, sir?”

Sirius fell about laughing, and Remus smiled.

They spent the rest of the morning like that, with Remus sharing biscuits out of his treasured porcelain jar, and Sirius sharing stories about the places he’d been and the people he’d met. He could see why he’d chosen to be a Drama teacher; he had a certain flair, and he was overdramatic, and incredibly charming, which could only be a recipe for absolute chaos, but somehow, he made it work.

All too quickly, it came to eleven o’clock, and they both had to go and actually do their jobs. Before walking out, Sirius turned back and winked at him. “I expect I’ll be seeing you at lunch, then?”

Remus usually ate in his office; sometimes James or Peter would drag him out and they’d go to a café somewhere, but he felt like he could make an exception for Sirius. “Sure. But we are not going to the canteen; I’ll show you a place down the street - the bagels are so good.”

Sirius grinned. “It’s a date.”


	2. Chapter 2

_It’s a date._

Those three fucking words that simultaneously caused Remus to freeze up and implode.

_A date._

It didn’t matter whether he meant it like that or not, it was still a date.

Jeez, he needed to calm down. He had a class in less than five minutes, after all. Blowing out his cheeks, Remus smoothed down his jacket and made his way downstairs to his classroom. The familiarity calmed him; he’d been teaching there for two years, almost as soon as he’d left university, and just fell in love with it all over again; the wooden floors squeaking under a thousand rushing feet; the smell of paint after the summer holidays; the weary Sixth Form students pointing tiny Year Sevens in the right direction; all of it just screamed nostalgia to him, especially since not eight years ago that had been him, standing next to James and Peter as their final class picture was taken; pulling one last prank on the teachers that left McGonagall yelling at them fondly and Filch cursing their names.

His classroom was 33, near the end of the English block and therefore, closest to the library which occupied the huge room that was the former gym. He sometimes let the students have their lessons in there at the end of the year; having everything you needed to revise around you was helpful, he found.

The class he was teaching today was a Year Ten form, one that he knew was very internet-focused and tended to do better with a keyboard in front of them rather than huge, dusty volumes that had too-small print. They were supposed to be starting a Shakespeare unit that day, but honestly, Remus had too much on his mind to even attempt explaining the meanings behind the language of King Lear, so he announced it a creative writing session.

Most of the class cheered, although there were a few that groaned until he clarified that he didn’t care what it was about, as long as he had something at the end of the lesson. That shut them up, and he was able to sit at his desk and pretend he was doing Very Important Work, when in reality he was just searching Frank and Alice’s café, and hoping against hope that Sirius wasn’t lactose intolerant or something, because Alice put a hell of a lot of butter in her sandwiches, and he really didn’t want their date to end in diarrhoea, or worse.

He was just about back to a neutral state, when Sirius poked his head round his door and did that fucking smirk, and Remus’ heart was back to beating at about two hundred beats per minute.

“Hey, don’t mean to bother you, but do you have a pen I can borrow?”

“Uh, uhm… sure?” Most of the class were staring at him now, so he cleared his throat. “Yes. Here you go.” He grabbed the first one he could see and walked over, conscious of the fact Sirius’ eyes followed him every step of the way. When he handed it over, he could swear that Sirius had leaned in to take it, because he hadn’t been that close before had he? Definitely not close enough that Remus could feel his breath on his cheek, as his own hitched slightly.

“Thanks,” Sirius said with another smirk, and then he was gone. Remus walked back over to his desk, slightly shell-shocked.

“Sir, who was that?” a bushy-haired girl asked, eyes bright and knowing, and only just hiding her grin.

“A new teacher. His name is Mr Black.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, how long have you been dating?”

Remus dropped his head onto the desk, groaning as the room erupted in laughter.

The rest of the lesson passed agonisingly slowly, because every so often, someone would evidently remember the encounter between him and Sirius, and soon giggling and whispering would spread throughout the class, and it would take two minutes of shushing for them to quieten down. Matters weren’t helped when Sirius poked his head round the door again at two minutes to twelve and grinned at him.

“You ready to go?”

Quiet squealing erupted from a corner of the room, and Remus blushed. “Uh… we still have two minutes…”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “Sorry!” He grinned again, sheepishly, and ducked back out of the room.

If the past hour had gone slowly, those two minutes went about as fast as molasses. When the bell rang, Remus immediately dismissed them, gathered up his things, threw on his scarf, and dashed out of the door, nearly running straight into Sirius, who caught him by the shoulders before he fell over and embarrassed himself more.

“Easy there cowboy, before you hurt yourself,” Sirius said, chuckling slightly.

Remus righted himself, and smoothed down his jacket. “Right. Yes. Well, should we go?”

His grey eyes lit up. “Definitely.”

They spent the short walk to the café talking about their classes, and Remus conveniently left out the bushy-haired girl’s question. Sirius gestured wildly as he described the “bloody chaos” in his class and the “fucking cheek” of his GCSE class. Before they knew it, they were outside Bump And Grind (Remus would forever hold it against Frank for letting Alice name the café), and Sirius was glancing at all the features, like the green chalkboard hanging over the door proclaiming the specials; the climbing flowers that were taking over one of the walls; the speakers under the awning that were playing soft indie music (Remus was forever thankful they’d come at a time when Frank was picking the music). “It’s owned by my friends - their baking is amazing.”

Sirius looked at him, and smiled. “It’s definitely nicer than the shit place I’ve been to in London. So, should we go in?”

They were instantly welcomed by Alice, who hugged Remus so tightly he was sure his ribs were cracked when she finally let go, and shook Sirius’ hand enthusiastically, flashing Remus a knowing look when he explained they were there for lunch. She guided them to a table near the corner, with a nice view of the street, and told them to yell when they were ready to order. Sirius seemed to relax instantly, lounging in his chair like he owned the place. “You come here often, then?”

“Yeah. I went to school with them, and sometimes I take my marking here. Frank always lets me have free refills - it’s great.”

“Did everyone in your year stay here?” Sirius looked wistful, and Remus wondered if he missed his old city.

“No, it was really just me, Peter, Alice and Frank. Lily and James are here now, too, but they spent the last few years travelling all over the world for their extended honeymoon. Most people are in bigger cities now, but I didn’t really fancy it after uni, so I came back here. What about you?”

Sirius coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck. If Remus didn’t know any better, he’d say Sirius was nervous. “Not much to tell, really. I was home-schooled until I was eleven, then I went to some fancy private school up in Scotland until university. My parents wanted me to become a lawyer or part of a business firm, but I really just wanted to do theatre, and since they weren’t willing to pay for drama school, I decided to become a teacher instead. Did my courses and did a few student places, and boom, here I am.”

Remus pulled a face. “Your family sounds delightful.”

He laughed quietly. “Nah, Reg is okay, and so’s a few of my cousins. It’s just the rest of them I hate.” Any trace of solemnity left on his face cleared, and he smiled broadly. “Now, enough about my tragic life. I want one of those magic bagels I was promised.”

“Sure thing.” He waved Alice over, and ordered for the both of them. It turned out Sirius was one of those people who had a ridiculously over-the-top coffee order, which Alice had to ask him to repeat at least three times, but agreed without complaint when Remus ordered two onion bagels with turkey. Just thinking about them was making Remus drool slightly. God, he could eat all his meals there; well, he did mostly, but he disregarded that thought.

The bagels didn’t take too long to make, and they discussed anything and everything whilst stuffing their faces; where they’d travelled, where they wanted to, exes and crazy friends, although he noticed Sirius was quite quiet at that part.

Far too soon, it was one o’clock and they were going to have to run if they wanted to make it back to school on time. Remus put down a twenty and they rushed out, waving to Alice and Frank, who had just come out of the kitchen with flour on his nose.

They both started to sprint, and Remus thanked every power that was that he could see Sirius’ hair when it was being blown about in the wind and his smile when Remus challenged him to a race. Needless to say, the incredibly fit drama teacher won.

They stopped outside the drama block, and Sirius sighed a little. “So…”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “So…?”

“Are we going to make this a regular thing? By the way you talked about the canteen food, it’s not that great.”

Holy Mary mother of chocolate. Remus gaped at him, before remembering he still needed to answer, so he swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, okay. So, I’ll see you in the office, yeah?”

Sirius huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you will.”


	3. Chapter 3

The last two lessons went at about the same pace as the ones before lunch; agonisingly slowly. Remus kept glancing at the clock and would trail off in the middle of a sentence, all because a pair of light grey eyes and a smirking mouth were all he could focus on. He was sure his students had caught on by now, but honestly, in his state of after-not-date dreaminess, he couldn’t care less.

At three thirty exactly, he dismissed his class and certainly did not sprint towards his office, only to find a certain drama teacher lounging in a chair and smirking at him whilst chewing a pen, which, in Remus’ opinion, should have been illegal.

“Hey,” he said, straightening his jacket, looking anywhere, _anywhere_ , except Sirius’ mouth. He dropped his bag by the desk and flopped down in his chair, groaning in relief. “You know, I never realised how uncomfortable the chairs in my classroom are.”

“Try being in a room with no chairs and thirty hyperactive eleven year olds and get back to me,” Sirius replied, tilting his head back so his face was upside down, facing Remus. “It’s utter torture.”

Remus, again, had to tear his eyes away from him, remembering his growing pile of marking, which was way too much to take to Frank and Alice’s. “Well, I've got to stay here for a while, so I guess I'll see you later?”

Something flickered in Sirius’ face, but he shrugged and grinned nonetheless. “Alright, Moony, see you later.”

“Okay sure - wait a second.” Remus’ eyes widened. _James didn’t, did he?_ “Whatever James told you, it’s a lie.”

“The part about you being weirdly obsessed with the moon? Or the part where your name literally means werewolf?”

Remus buried his face in his hands. “Noooooo...”

Sirius laughed. “Aww, don’t be like that, Moon-pie.” The sound of his voice didn’t sound mean, but Remus was _not_ going to look up.

“Stop, please. It was a phase, I swear.”

“Too late,” Sirius sang, “I’m so using this against you.”

When Remus finally looked up, he’d gone.

He tried getting on with marking books, but his embarrassing nickname was ringing in his ears, albeit in a rather smooth voice. God, how could James have _done_ that? He _knew_ how embarrassing that phase was for him, and it was bad enough that everyone knew about his nickname back in school, but to have _Sirius_ know it -

Remus sighed, and closed the book with a snap. He needed air. Grabbing his scarf and discarded jacket, he made his way out, promising himself he’d be back in five minutes.

Twenty minutes later, he opened the door to a very strong scent of onion and turkey. On his desk, still steaming slightly, was a bagel with a piece of paper attached to it.

 

_Your nickname’s not that bad, I swear. Also I hope you appreciate this, because I had to sprint from Alice and Frank’s to get it back in time. ~~Oh god I really hope you haven’t left for the day.~~_

_If it makes you feel better, ‘Prongs’ is an even worse nickname._

_See you, Moonshine._

_~~shit that’s a brand of alcohol.~~ _

__

Remus smiled. Maybe his nickname wasn’t so bad after all.

He finished up his marking in record time, accompanied by his bagel, and picked up his bag. Just before he was about to leave, something caught his eye. Sat on Sirius’ desk was the tiny black dog he’d put in pride of place when unpacking. Remus gently picked it up and turned it over. Stitched in tiny letters was a wobbly script spelling ‘Padfoot’.

He grinned, and placed the dog back down. This could be useful. He backed out of the door and out of the school, towards the bus stop.

Remus always took the bus home. He was pretty conservative with money, after what had happened to his parents when he got ill. He never wanted to be in that position ever again. So he took the bus. Always the same one, always the same route, since he was eleven. Sometimes he would be with James or Peter, but most of the time he liked to take this trip alone. It just made him feel at home; seeing the streets pass in a blur, letting his mind relax and wander, smelling the air out of the open window, which always smelt like smoke, and people watching. Today, stopped at a red light, he saw a girl with a starkly cut bob, wearing a white shirt and flared crops. She was leaning against a lamppost, taking a drag from a cigarette and letting the smoke surround her. She looked angry, hurt even, and he wondered  who or what made her eyes go narrow and her face to go cold as she threw down her cig and stormed off. The bus pulled off, but she stuck in his mind, twisting and developing into a new person, a character he could use.

He hadn’t told anyone he was working on a book. It was something he wanted to be private, something he wasn’t willing to share yet. It, along with the nightmares, was the cause for him never getting any sleep. If he wasn’t checking to make sure he could still breathe, he was sat at his desk, staring out of the window, thinking of characters and settings and motivations.

The main character was still something of a mystery to him, because all he could think up was _black hair_ and _reckless._ He knew almost everything about the others; the sister was bright-eyed and hopeful, with a penchant for saving dogs; the best friend was quiet and long-suffering, and they were constantly picking up after the main character; the father was an engineer, loving and naïve; but he had nothing for him.

As usual, when he came to his stop, he smiled at the driver, stepped off the bus with his left foot, and turned right into the corner shop on Richard Street. He bought his usual bread and pint of semi-skimmed milk, told himself he wouldn’t go back for chocolate, went back for a quick look, came out with another bag, and headed home to his terraced house two streets away.

It was a small house, painted faded blue by a previous owner, with white framed windows and a grey concrete step that was just short of reaching the door. It was joined to one that looked a bit more professional; owned by Molly's family of three, soon to be four, who were always asking Remus to dinner, which he always accepted, because Molly made the best roast dinners and Arthur was amusing company with the way he tried to understand technology. Sometimes he babysat the boys, who were troublemakers, except Percy, who sat primly in his highchair and looked on disapprovingly at his older brothers.

He unlocked the door and stepped in, hanging up his scarf amidst the seemingly hundreds he had there. He kicked off his shoes in the doorway of his living room, knowing that he’d regret doing it later when he came downstairs at three in the morning. He went to his kitchen and made a black coffee, which he brought up to his study. He wrote a thousand words of draft. He had dinner. He wrote a thousand more. He had more coffee. He wrote about the girl he saw. He named her Pansy. He looked at the clock and knew he should sleep. He wrote another thousand words. He went to bed at two in the morning.

 

_He couldn’t breathe. It was dim, and he was lying down. There were faces everywhere that he couldn’t make out. They were all shouting at him, words bleeding together. Someone told him to breathe, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t couldn’t -_

He had a nightmare.

Shaking and gasping, he got out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He gripped the sides of the sink and stared at himself. Alive. Healthy. Happy. Grown up. _Alive._ He took a few deep breaths to calm his heartbeat, and sank down on the bathroom floor.

It wasn’t his fault. Nothing was wrong. He repeated it to himself for a while, staring at the lightening sky. It must be about five. He would need to get up soon. He didn’t want to. He never wanted to get up after a nightmare. For an unknown reason, grey eyes came into his mind, and inexplicably, he could feel his heart beating slower, and the thought of a small smile made his breaths come easier.

He got up. Went downstairs and tripped over his shoes and cursed at himself. Made himself breakfast; boiled egg and toast, with coffee. Frank and Alice would be opening up soon, and they would understand. He went back upstairs and got changed into different clothes with the same jacket. The overlarge tweed comforted him, and he felt himself go back to a neutral state.

Before he went back downstairs, ready for another day, he wrote down a word on his page about his main character.

_Grey._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the update schedule's nuts, I've been frazzled with exams.
> 
> I hope you liked it and kudos and comments are appreciated!
> 
> Have a good day :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Okay, your turn.”

“You know I'm useless at this.”

“Come on!”

Remus sighed and opened his mouth. Sirius grinned from where he was sat on his chair, with his knees drawn up to his chest. He took another grape out of the packet and threw it in a high arc. Remus jerked his head forward and caught it, promptly swallowing it whole in surprise.

Sirius threw up his arms in triumph. “See? Told you.”

Remus rolled his eyes and stole another grape. “Yeah, yeah. At least this time you didn’t try and knock my coffee cup over.”

“One time, Remus. One time!” Sirius shook his head, still smiling. “Besides, you drink way too much of that stuff. How do you sleep at night?”

_I don’t._ “You know, counting sheep.”

“And pretending to eat them?”

Remus scowled, and hit his arm. “I hate you.”

“No, you hate _Prongs._ What kind of a nickname is that, anyway?”

Remus chuckled a little, recalling the memory. “It may have had something to do with a biology project on wildlife.”

“I’m listening.”

James had gotten _very_ into this project, declaring the deer his “spirit animal” and wanted to dress up as a stag for the presentation. Unfortunately, he got a little drunk whilst preparing the costume, and ended up super-gluing small papier-mâché antlers to his forehead. His mother had apparently thought it hilarious, and sent him to school like that. James refused to ask for help in removing them, though, saying that he felt “more connected” to the deer, and that he was sure they would get extra marks for it. Needless to say, Sprout had not been impressed, although she grudgingly admitted that the rest of the project very much surpassed the other pupils’.

Remus told this to Sirius, who had cracked up laughing when he heard about the Super-Glue Incident, as it was known from then on. “He’ll tell you it’s a really mysterious and magical reason, but really, he just got drunk and fucked up his deer costume.”

“Oh man,” Sirius said, breathing deeply, “I wish I'd had people like you at my school. I only had stuck up pricks to keep me company there for seven years.”

Remus checked the time. Quarter past twelve. It had started to pour at about half past eleven, so they'd decided to stay in their office and eat there.

He had another hour to kill. Might as well learn about the enigmatic Sirius Black. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you not end up like them? A stuck up prick, I mean.”

Sirius sat back in his chair, eyes mischievous. “Well, when I say I _only_ had stuck up pricks to keep me company, that’s not _exactly_ true. See, there was this town a few minutes’ walk away -”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did.” Sirius was smirking, seemingly proud of his younger self. “Anyway, I was sixteen, and on my way to becoming the lovely, rich, snobby child my parents wanted me to be, when I saw one guy sneaking out of the school after curfew. I followed him, and he caught me. After I told him I wouldn’t tell, and he stopped trying to strangle me, he took me to where he was going. He had a friend who lived there, and they were having a party. Bear in mind this guy was eighteen, so there was booze _everywhere_. And people kept talking about stuff I'd never heard of. And the best part was, they talked to _me_. Like I was an actual human with ideas, not some kid with nothing good to say. Long story short, I ended up going with that guy every week to town, even if his friend wasn’t having a party. They asked me about my life, and encouraged me to think for myself, and so I started my tiny rebellion.”

Remus blew out a breath. “I could never do that.”

Sirius flashed him a lopsided smile. “Be glad you didn’t.” He stood up, brushing down his trousers and stretching, again revealing the line of skin that had Remus so flustered  yesterday. And today wasn’t any better. Remus cleared his throat and turned back to his desk. He still had a few things to do; normal for the start of the year. Very Important Things that were definitely preferable to Sirius’ eyes and stomach and laugh and -

“Remus? Moony!”

Remus jumped and turned to Sirius, who looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, you were staring into space and weren’t talking.” His face was really close to Remus’, so close that if Remus leaned forward just a bit -

“No, its fine. Just got - lost in thought.”

“Thinking is boring. Doing is fun.”

“And what do you think we should do?”

* * *

“We are going to freeze, Sirius.”

“Nah, we’ll be fine! Come on, Moons, live a little!”

They were stood on the flat roof of the English building, and Sirius was spinning in circles, laughing. Remus was huddled into his coat, curly hair plastered to his forehead. Rain was nice, he thought, if you were sat by a fire with a good book in your lap, preferably also with a cup of coffee in your hands. But otherwise it was bad. And wet. And cold.

“Can we go in now?”

Sirius sashayed up to him. “Not ‘till you dance with me.”

Remus scoffed. “I have two left feet. Plus we’re on a roof. In the rain.”

“Exactly! It’s just like The Notebook. Now come on!” he dragged Remus over to him, into a waltz position. “My parents made me take classes, don’t you dare judge me,” he said to Remus’ raised eyebrows.

Remus _was_ a terrible dancer, and he felt like this was reminiscent of a stupid teen movie, but nonetheless he was laughing as Sirius led the way around the grey roof, twirling him every so often. Sirius was an excellent dancer; his movements seemed fluid, like he was born to dance. It was easy to see why he’d wanted to pursue theatre; he was a natural performer, always attracting your attention, stealing your focus and fixating you on his movements and mannerisms. Or perhaps that was just Remus. Perhaps it was just Remus who caught himself staring, eyes lingering more than they should on his gestures as he talked, or his mouth, which seemed capable of a million different expressions on its own.

Eventually they came to a halt, still in a waltz position. It was only then that Remus realised that Sirius was just a little shorter than him, and he had a mole near his left ear that he’d not noticed. In fact, there were a few things he hadn’t noticed about Sirius, like how he smelled. And he smelled _good._ He smelled like rain and earth and something vaguely dog-scented. He wondered if Sirius had a dog. He wondered why they weren’t moving. Then he remembered, and jerked away. “Sorry.”

If he didn’t know better, he would say that Sirius looked almost disappointed. “S’fine. Don’t worry about it.” He stepped back a few paces, and looked at his watch. “Damn, we were out for a while. Better go in.”

Remus checked his own watch. Ten to one. They had plenty of time. But Sirius clearly wanted to go in, and now that they weren’t dancing anymore, he realised it was still chucking it down. “Okay.”

They didn’t talk as they went in, and there was a palpable sense of awkwardness in the air, which was only enhanced when Sirius hurriedly gathered his things and started to walk out.

“Where are you going?” Remus asked, confused.

“Uh - I want to prep my next lesson. You know the GCSE classes; always needing this prop and these lights,” Sirius said, quickly. “See you, Remus.”

He shut the door before Remus could reply.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this is a bit of a filler because i'm suffering with writer's block rn so the next update may not be for a while. thanks for being patient!

For the next week, Sirius’ odd behaviour continued. He would come in precisely on time, not early enough to engage in a proper conversation with Remus, but not late enough so he would not be able to prep his classes. It was odd; Remus had only known him a week, and yet it felt like something was missing as soon as their almost too-friendly camaraderie was swapped for cool professionalism. Sirius the joker, the flirt, the actor, was hidden, and replaced by the intelligent teacher, the professional adult, who still joked now and then with him, but refrained from getting too close. It was rather disconcerting.

On one occasion Remus had even looked in on one of his lessons, and was surprised to see Sirius appeared to be his old self whilst teaching, full of energy and wicked humour. Remus concluded that perhaps it wasn’t important, that maybe it was just Remus overreacting. After all, he hadn’t been with anyone since his last year of university, and maybe he was pinning all those pent up feelings on Sirius.

Yes. That was all.

So Remus carried on with his life as normal. Nothing had changed, he told himself. He still came into work at quarter past seven, he still drank his three cups of coffee - even though it was quickly turning into well over double that - and he still wrote long into the night. And if he sometimes caught himself thinking about grey eyes, or a slanting smirk, well, it was all to do with the main character. Who still didn’t have a name. He’d tried many different ones, but nothing fit. Thomas was too normal. Stanley was too old-fashioned. Isaac _almost_ fit, but there was something not quite right about it.

Remus sighed, and rubbed his eyes. It was past six, and he was still at school, marking. He found it especially difficult to mark creative writing; it wasn’t as if he could fault them on their ideas, or their plots; the only things he could mark, really, were their choices of vocabulary and use of the English language. Because honestly, some sentences made him laugh. _Droplets of emotion ran down my face_ was one. _Tears_ was a perfectly good word; it surprising how many students believed that the more complicated the words, the better their writing would be, when in fact, the simplest words could have the greatest effect.

Sometimes though, he would find a gem. A beautifully written piece, with an excellent plot and thoughtful ideas. Those pieces made him glad he was a teacher; if he could help even one student to create more stories like that, he would have succeeded in his job. Remus had been lucky to have those kinds of teachers, and his parents, who pushed him to do what he wished in life.

He was glad he hadn’t lived with the Blacks. It really was a miracle that they had tried so hard to mould the perfect son, beaten every individual thought he’d had out of his head, and yet here he was, doing almost what he wanted, defying his family. Remus was quite certain he would never have been able to do that.

Goddamnit. His thoughts had drifted to Sirius again. Remus glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock. He really should be going. His resolve was strengthened by the thought of stopping by Alice and Frank’s, and picking up a bagel. Nodding to himself, Remus gathered up the papers he wanted to take home and placed them in his satchel. He did his usual check of the windows, and turned out the light. As soon as he exited the room, he came face to face with Filch, the caretaker, who eyed him suspiciously.

“What are you doing here, Lupin?” His tone was sharp, and if Remus had been James, or even himself, ten years younger, he would have made a rude quip, and ran away before any consequences came about. But it was late, and he was older, so he simply gave a faint smile to the man.

“Just finishing off some marking, Argus,” he replied as pleasantly as he could, facing with the rather sour, glowering face of a man who most certainly did not feel like being pleasant to him.

“Humph,” was his only reply, before he brushed past Remus towards the other offices. Remus sighed, and continued on his way. He could count his blessings that it was Friday, and the café would be open until late, which he had a sneaking suspicion was Alice’s doing after a conversation in which he’d said that on Fridays he would sometimes be too tired to make himself dinner, something Alice was openly outraged at.

The memory brought a smile to his face, as he walked down the streets. It was nice, walking in the twilight. The world seemed magical, almost, bathed in reddish-purple light, and even the most ordinary of things seemed to take on a mysterious aura. The people who walked by grew enigmatic and captivating; people you wouldn’t give a second glance to should you see them in the daylight.

This helps people to explore new ideas; stories and characters and settings and even worlds that can be dreamed up simply from the right place at the right time. Indeed, this was what had happened to Remus; he had simply stared out of his window one night and decided to write a book. It of course had taken him several days, even weeks, to figure out what kind of story he wanted to tell, but once he had, he hadn’t looked back.

He was thinking about this as he stepped into the café, and about the paths he could have gone along instead, when someone called his name. He glanced up and was met with a head of familiar black hair and grey eyes.

“Sirius.”

He smiled at Remus, and made his way over from the table he’d been sitting at; _my table_ , Remus noted. Sirius only stopped when they were about three feet apart; close, but not overly so.

“Hey,” he replied casually, as if he hadn’t spent the last week essentially ignoring Remus, “didn’t expect to see you here this late.”

Remus decided to play along, and shrugged equally as casually. “Fridays are always late for me. What about you?”

Sirius brought his hand up to his neck. “The coffee’s good. Plus I - well, I was wondering if you’d be here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We share an office. You could have talked to me there, right?”

Sirius said nothing, so Remus carried on. “Or, you could get in earlier and talk to me then, like you did last week.”

“Look, Remus, I’m -”

“ _Or_ , you know, you could stop pretending I don’t exist in school hours, hmm?”

Sirius opened his mouth, and at that moment Remus became aware that they were stood in a public café, with people watching them, and that his voice had been rising steadily. “Wait. Just - let me get a coffee, and then you can talk, okay?”

Sirius looked confused, but nodded anyway. Remus shooed him back to the table, and ordered two bagels and a coffee. He was going to need the extra energy tonight. Once he’d been given his coffee and a buzzer for his bagels, he walked over and sat down opposite Sirius, who was playing with the sugar packets, looking anywhere but at him.

Remus sighed, and Sirius' head snapped up. “So?”

“So, what?” Sirius replied, looking back down at the oh-so-interesting sugar packets.

“Why have you been ignoring me for the last week?”

“Haven’t,” he mumbled without conviction.

“Yes, Sirius,” Remus said, growing exasperated, “you have. Now tell me why, or I'm going to start making assumptions.”

Sirius groaned. “You really aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope. Now, talk.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this probably won't be updated for two weeks at least, because i'm going on holiday, but i'm going to try and get a chapter updated
> 
> thank you for the kudos, i really appreciate them!

Sirius pushed away the sugar packets with a sigh, still refusing to look at Remus. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Remus snapped. He was trying to be calm, he really was, but he’d heard the “complicated” line through every break-up and argument, so Sirius would just have to forgive him for that.

He winced, and finally looked up. “It really is, though. It’s to do with my - my family. They're just being shitty, as usual, but - I don’t know, last week it really hit home, you know? And - and I’m sorry, Remus, but I just didn’t want to talk about it because I know you’d pity me, and -”

“Sirius, you're babbling.” He was acting a little shifty, Remus thought, watching him fiddle with a napkin and alternating between looking at Remus’ chin and the wall. He put it down to nervousness from talking about his family, and smiled slightly. “It’s okay, you know? I don’t mind you talking about them, and I definitely won't pity you for whatever they’ve done to you, okay?”

Sirius returned the smile, albeit a little weakly. “Thanks, Moony.”

“Anytime.”

The atmosphere seemed to change then, and his smile grew to the trademark smirk he was known for. “Now we’ve got that mushy shit out of the way, let me tell you about this one girl in my class. Jesus, she’s a smartarse -”

They seemed to have fallen back into their old routine of Sirius talking loudly and gesturing so much he nearly hit a waitress in the head, and Remus laughing at him and talking somewhat less loudly. But something had changed between them, and over the course of ten minutes, Remus caught him staring a grand total of eight times. Not that he was counting, of course.

They came to a lull in their conversation, where they both were content to just sit back in a comfortable, sleepy silence. Remus wondered vaguely about his bagels, and why they were taking so long, but his thoughts were interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat.

“So, listen, Remus, I wanted to ask you something.”

Remus sat up slightly, sleepiness vanished. “Yeah?”

“I -”

_Bzzzzzz._

Remus looked down to see his buzzer doing a jig on the table and sighed. “Hang on, I'll be right back.”

He grabbed the buzzer and made his way over to a frantic-looking Alice, who shoved a paper bag at him and practically ran off to deal with a party of ten who had suddenly appeared at the door. Remus sent an apologetic smile at Frank, then walked back over to where Sirius was waiting. Just as he was about to eat his first bagel, he remembered their previous conversation.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?”

He looked as if he was on the verge of saying something, then shook his head. “S’not important.”

“Sure? It sounded important.”

“Sure.”

Remus eyed him suspiciously, but decided against pressing him. They finished dinner in silence, broken only when Sirius said his goodbyes and left, leaving Remus to wonder just what had stopped Sirius from telling him what he wanted to say.

* * *

He got home a little after half past nine, after deciding to walk and then being caught in the rain. Cursing the British weather, he kicked off his shoes and shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere. It had been something he’d done as a child, and had just never stopped. It was almost like a ritual. He shrugged off his coat and made his way into the kitchen, putting his hands over the radiator. Once he felt his hands were sufficiently warmed, he sank down onto a chair and took out his phone. One text from James, asking if he wanted to get lunch the next day, adding, he noticed guiltily, that he hadn’t seen him properly for a week. He realised been neglecting James and Peter recently, and so fired off a quick text to say he’d be there at one.

James was a good friend, no matter how much of a twat he could be on occasion. Under a cocky exterior, he was quite sensitive to those close to him, and was remarkably perceptive. He was the only one who could figure out if Remus was having a bad day, or if Peter needed to get something off his chest. His method of cheering people up usually incorporated some sort of ridiculous prank that would definitely have Remus cursing his name in detention, but it worked. Sometimes he wished that he could go back to his school days; when the future didn’t loom over their heads, and the biggest worry in the world was if McGonagall would catch them pulling the latest prank.

It took him a moment to realise his phone was ringing. Just before it went to voicemail, he swiped the screen and held up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Mum.”

He prevented himself from sighing out loud. He and his parents were slightly estranged, after they had decided to move away to somewhere up in Yorkshire when he left for university. He still visited, of course, but only really for Christmas. They rarely called him, so this sudden call from his mum could only be bad news.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetie, why would anything be wrong?” She sounded uncomfortable, which just cemented Remus’ assumption that something _was_ wrong.

“You never call me unless there’s bad news. The last time you did call, it was to say that Dad had fallen off a ladder and broken his arm.”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“Well, your father entered this competition a while ago for a holiday in Malta -” Remus could already see what was coming “- and, well, he didn’t check the date for when we’d be away, and so…”

“You won't be at home for Christmas, will you?”

“No. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but it’s a wonderful trip, and your dad was so looking forward to it -”

“Mum, please don’t guilt-trip me. You should go, I'll be fine.”

“Thank you, Remus.” She sounded relieved, and was quite possibly going to daydream about Malta for the rest of the call. “You can always spend Christmas with James, can't you?”

“Sure,” he replied. He was most certainly not going to spend Christmas alone, and James had always told him he was welcome in his house at any time, something that he’d got from his parents, who were the most welcoming of people you could ever meet, second only to Molly Weasley.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, darling. You always were our little trooper.” ‘Trooper’ meant she was still feeling guilty, so Remus decided to cut the call short.

“Alright, Mum, I've got to go; I'm meeting James for lunch tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetie. I love you!”

“Love you too, Mum. Bye.”

“Bye!”

He slumped down onto his sofa, eyes closed. Honestly, he was kind of relieved. As much as he loved his parents, Christmas dinner was always awkward, because all they seemed to ask was if he was seeing anyone, and every time when he answered no, they’d bring up this girl they saw at the post office, or this boy they were served by in a restaurant. They hadn’t minded that he was bi; in fact, in his father’s words, it was “double the chance for a wedding!”, even though Remus had clearly stated that he was in his twenties, and didn’t see himself getting married for a good long while, if ever.

He sighed, and cracked open one eye to look at the clock. Quarter past ten. He deliberated going upstairs to write for a bit, but decided against it; it had been a long day and he had barely any coffee left. Instead, he dragged himself upstairs and got ready for bed. The book would still be there in the morning, he told himself firmly.

 

_Lost in the woods. Yellow eyes leering at him from all directions. An absence of breath; hands at his throat. He broke away and started to run, but to no effect. It was almost as if he was on a treadmill. The eyes came closer, and he could make out curling breath, and snarling mouths. Wolves. As soon as he realised this, they started to run. He whipped back around and sprinted as fast as he could, but the howls were getting louder, and he was gasping for breath. He stopped, and slowly turned around. They had moved into a formation, and were getting closer, and closer, and -_

He sat up, breathing heavily. Two nightmares in a week? He kicked off the bedcovers, and put his feet on the floor. The red light on his clock said it was half past two, so he knew he wasn’t going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon. He glanced towards his desk. Maybe doing a bit of writing would help calm him down.

The full moon lit up his desk as he began to write.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throw rocks at me i'm a bad person
> 
> i actually have another idea for a fic so i've been writing that as well
> 
> but i'm getting back into this so hopefully i'll update it more often
> 
> also homework
> 
> fml
> 
> thank you so much for the kudos i love you all

He had an awful crick in his neck when he woke up. Blinking drowsily, Remus raised his head and stretched, groaning. Why was everything the wrong way round? It was only when he tried to lean back that he realised he had fallen asleep in his chair. Great.

He got up and grabbed a cardigan, trudging downstairs to the kitchen, and tripping over his shoes he’d stupidly left at the bottom of the staircase. As he was picking up his mug from the night before, he looked at the clock, to see how long he’d slept in.

“Shit!”

It was half past twelve. Abandoning all thoughts of coffee, Remus ran back up the stairs, took the fastest shower in his life, and sprinted to the bus stop, hair still wet and shoes untied. It didn’t really matter either way, he thought, sighing; he was going to be late anyway. The bus stop roof had been smashed in as well, leaving him open to the rain. He huddled into his cardigan and waited, almost cheering when the bus came round the corner.

He willed the journey to go faster, even though the driver clearly had drunk more coffee than possibly the whole bus combined, as the bus swerved this way and that, narrowly missing several old ladies and a few pigeons. Remus was actually surprised he made it to the Three Broomsticks in one piece.

James was sat at his usual table on the far side of the bar, glasses askew as always, tapping at his phone and frowning. James looked up as Remus approached; face breaking into a grin at the sight of him.

“Moony!”

Remus scowled. “Don’t call me that. I already know you told Sirius about it.”

“Did I?” James asked, smirking, “Must have slipped my mind.”

Remus smirked back. “Well, he also knows about the Super Glue Incident, so…”

“For one so innocent looking, you are a devious man, Lupin.”

“Prongs, you’ve known me for fifteen years; you should know my blameless appearance is the reason we got out of so many detentions.”

James scoffed. “What, and not my fantastic lying ability?”

“When we filled the fountain with rubber ducks, you tried to tell McGonagall that Filch was having a pool party with his cat.”

“I was thirteen!”

“You were still bad at lying,” Remus replied. “Now, what did you want to meet me for? If it was something casual, you would have showed up at my house with takeaway.”

James’ face lit up, and he leaned forwards almost conspiratorially. “You remember when I said to Lily that I wanted a kid?”

Remus frowned. “Yeah, but didn’t she say -”

“That she wasn’t quite ready yet, yeah. So I said that was fine, because, you know, I'm not going to be the one carrying the thing -”

“Pretty sure that ‘thing’ would be a baby -”

“ -and to tell me when she thought she was. And we were having a night yesterday, and she turns to me, and you know what she says?”

“I'm going to guess you’ll tell me regardless,” Remus said dryly, although he was smiling, seeing where James was going with this story.

“She said yes! Like a full on, sober, one-hundred-percent yes!” James’ grin was so wide it looked as if it would take over his face.

“Congratulations, Prongs! When’s it due?”

James went a little red at that, and ducked his head. “About that…”

“What?”

“We, uh, wantedtoplanwhenthekidwouldbeborn.”

Remus burst out laughing, ignoring James’ glare. “And people say _I’m_ the nerd here.”

“Fuck off, Moony. We wanted a July baby, is that so bad?” James adjusted his glasses angrily, still scowling.

“N-no, it’s just - most people just kind of do it whenever they want, they don’t follow a _plan._ ”

“Says the man who’s been single for three years - wait,” James said, seeing Remus scratch the back of his neck, “are you seeing someone?”

“N-”

“Moony, how _dare_ you not say you were dating someone, I thought we were friends!”

“James -”

“I mean, I can understand not telling Peter; he’d probably sell us out to the government for a chocolate bar; but _me_ , Moony? I am, frankly, offended beyond belief -”

“ _James_!”

“What?”

“I'm not seeing anyone.” James opened his mouth to protest, but Remus cut him off. “I'm not seeing anyone because I don’t have time to date. Plus, you remember how my last attempt went.”

James shuddered reflexively. “So many spiders.”

“Exactly. I can't risk repeating that.”

“But Moony, there’s so many non-spidery people out there, just waiting for you to come and sweep them off their feet! I mean, who could resist the six foot three, cute, nerdy god that sits before me?”

“Sirius could, and we share an office most of the time. Well, he’s been a little distant recently, but he just said that’s because his family were being dicks, so I can kind of forgive him that, plus he’s got these puppy eyes, which I don’t think anyone can say no to; I can't, anyway. He’s got a puppy sat on his desk, actually; it kinda reminds me of him, because the fur looks really soft, like his hair, and it’s really sweet because I think it was a gift, which means he’s carried it around since probably uni, and you know I'm a sucker for sentimentality, and - what?”

James was staring at him, smiling softly. “My dear Moony. Dear, dearest Moony.” His face split open in a grin. “You’ve got a cruuuuuush.”

“I do not.”

 “Have you told him?”

“No, James, and -”

“Because he’s gay, and single, and I can tell you think he’s really cute.”

Remus did a double-take. “He - what?”

He smirked, and nodded. “Uh-huh. He told me when I asked him about relationships. Marlene was practically drooling over him last week, but he was completely oblivious to her very obvious advances. So, I ask you; what’s stopping you?”

Remus mulled it all over in his head before coming up with an appropriate answer. “Because I’ve known him two weeks, and he’s spent half that time ignoring me.”

James scoffed. “Trying to make you jealous.”

“We were dancing on a rooftop, and I got too close, and he got uncomfortable. Fin.”

“Moony -”

“I'll pay for lunch. Where do you want to go?”

James glowered, but let the subject go. They ended up going to a small restaurant a few streets down from James and Lily’s flat, and after a huge lunch, went back there for tea, with Lily and James relentlessly teasing Remus about his ‘crush’. Which he did not have. Shut up.

He finally left at around five, feeling warm and light. James and Lily had been his friends since he’d started secondary school (well, except that period in Year Eleven when James had relentlessly asked her out and Lily refused to have any contact with him, even through Remus), and hadn’t made fun of him for being small and sickly, along with Peter, who knew exactly how that felt. They’d all stayed on for Sixth Form together, and Remus had witnessed James and Lily falling in love, and, at the end of Year Thirteen, getting engaged.

When he got back to his own house, he stopped for a minute. It had been empty but for him for two years. No one there to make the coffee in the morning; no one to tell him to go to bed when he’d been up writing until three in the morning; no one to order pizza when there’d been a bad day; no one to just cuddle with whenever he felt like it.

He was a little lonely, he thought.

Maybe James was right. He was a pretty perceptive person, so he was usually correct about things like feelings and relationships. Just not about Sirius. Because Remus didn’t have a crush on him.

Nope.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am an actual piece of shit with no inspiration i am so sorry
> 
> it took me two months to get this out and it's not something i'm proud of
> 
> also i did just want to say thank you to people who subscribed to this because you actually give me motivation to write this and it gives me a bit of hope that my writing surely isn't that bad
> 
> comments would really be appreciated seriously (yes i'm a thirsty bitch suck it)

He’d run out of coffee. Again. And while Remus did love Alice and Frank, he really did not want to go outside. Mostly because he had bedhead and was barefoot in pyjamas, after actually getting a full six hours sleep, which he decided to count as an achievement. Nevertheless, he did need coffee, so he reluctantly attempted to tame his hair and went to pull on something semi-respectable. After ten minutes stumbling around trying to find a matching pair of shoes and a cardigan that wasn’t holey, he stepped outside to the grey morning.

Once he walked into the café, the smells of coffee and bagels woke him up completely, and he realised just how hungry he was. He bought a breakfast bagel with black coffee; sweet drinks made him feel a little nauseous at this time of day. Turning towards his table, he was faced yet again with a mop of black hair sat in his place. This time Sirius was sat with a laptop in hand, glasses low on his nose and eyes scrunched up, typing furiously. Remus smiled a little, and made his way over.

“What’s with the face?”  he asked, making Sirius jump.

He looked shocked for a second, before breaking into a grin. “Hey Moons. Just trying to mark some of these devising logs. Some of the ideas they have are honestly bizarre. I've got one here that’s going for Alice in Wonderland on acid. I'm not kidding,” he added, to Remus’ quiet scoff, “there are some weird-ass kids in this school.”

Remus hummed in agreement, remembering some of the more odd pieces of writing he’d seen over the years. One particularly disturbing one had described several ways of hiding a body in a multi-storey car park. He relayed this story to Sirius, who pushed away his breakfast, wrinkling his nose.

“What are these kids reading? Back when I was twelve, the only stuff I had access to was either Dickens or textbooks.”

“Seriously? All I got for my birthday was books; whatever my dad could get his hands on at the charity sales, and practically all my pocket money went on them.”

Sirius frowned a little, but his face cleared quickly. “I've been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” His breath definitely didn’t catch in his throat.

“What’s your number? I've got James’, and Peter’s, but somehow I never got yours.”

 “Oh, sure.” He recited his phone number, and tried not to feel excited about this very simple thing.

He needed to get out more.

* * *

“So, what are your plans today?” Sirius asked, shutting his laptop.

“Huh?” Wow, that was elegant. “Oh, nothing, really. Haven’t got any urgent marking to do, so I'll just sit around.”

As if to voice its disagreement, his phone rang. Remus fumbled with his bag, glaring at Sirius, who was laughing at him. “Hello?”

“Hello, dearie, it’s Molly.” Of course. Who else had that mothering tone for everyone?

“Hi, Molly, how are you?”

“Just fine, dearie, just fine. I was just calling to see if you’d like to join us for lunch today? The boys have been asking after you.”

The thought of Molly’s roasts made Remus’ mouth water, even after eating an entire breakfast bagel. “Of course, anytime. Should I bring anything?” Not that he had anything even remotely Sunday roast appropriate in his house.

“Well, I hear you're getting friendly with the new boy; drama teacher, isn’t he?”

“Sirius?” His head snapped up, and opened his mouth. Remus hushed him, and turned back to the phone. “Yeah, I'm sure he’d love to.”

“Great! We’ll see you at one. Don’t be late!” She hung up, and immediately Remus was assaulted with questions.

“Who was that, why did you say my name, and _what_ did you say I'd love?” Sirius looked a little panicked, hair mussed up and eyes wide.

Remus smiled. “Calm down, buster. That was Molly; you know, dinner lady at school.”

He visibly relaxed. “Oh, the ginger one. Lovely lady, yeah.”

“She's invited us to Sunday lunch. One o’clock. Don’t be late.” He winked and got up, walking out of the shop before Sirius could react.

He got a text two minutes later.

_Firstly you're an arse, secondly text me the address I have no idea where to go. - S_

Oops.

* * *

At five to one, there was a knock at his door. Surely he wasn’t late; Molly had definitely said one, right? Remus made his way to the door, tucking his shirt in place. He opened the door to see a slightly red Sirius Black, man bun out of place - a terrible tragedy, of course.

“You alright?” Remus asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Oh, Remus thank god.” Sirius smoothed back his hair and tried to catch his breath. “I accidentally deleted the message you sent me and I only remembered the street name so I just had to go down the street  looking for the house and the last house had a _massive_ Alsatian and - you look good,” he said abruptly. “I mean, that’s a - nice shirt.”

Remus glanced down. It was the shirt he always wore for Christmas dinner; a muted green number, plain and simple. Mum said it brought out his eyes, so he had thought, why not? “Thanks. You too, actually.”

Sirius had clearly panicked a bit, because he was dressed up to the nines; white shirt, black blazer, thin blue tie, shoes that probably cost half his month’s salary. “Uh, thanks. Dressed up a bit too much, I think.”

He smiled fondly. “Yeah, kind of. It’s just Sunday lunch, mate.”

“Sunday meant very important guests in my house. Sit up straight, pass around the dishes and _for goodness sake_ , Sirius _, smile_!” He said the last bit in a ridiculously high voice. “My mother was a real charmer.”

“I can tell.” He checked his pockets for his keys and stepped outside. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah sure.” Sirius frowned. “Aren’t you taking a jacket?”

Remus laughed a little, and stopped outside the Weasley’s house. “Not if I'm only going three metres down the street.”

“You mean the only house I didn’t try happened to be the one I was looking for all along?”

Remus nodded, and Sirius sank down onto the ground, covering his face. “Goddamnit.”

“Come on, idiot,” Remus said, and pulled him up. Sirius stumbled, and somehow ended up quite close to Remus. Very close. If one of them just -

“Remus!”

Remus turned around, only for his ribs to be crushed by the short redheaded woman in an apron. “Hi Molly. I brought Sirius.” He gestured to him as well as he could, since both his arms were pinned to his side.

“Ah, yes!” Molly ignored Sirius’ outstretched hand and hugged him. Sirius froze. Remus saw panic in his eyes for a second before Molly stepped back, and he hastily pinned a smile on his face.

“Hello.”

“Well, come in! It’s too cold for us to be stood out here.” Molly bustled inside, calling for Arthur.

As soon as the door shut behind them, two blurs with red hair came flying out of the living room and latched onto Remus’ legs. “Reeeeemus!”

“Hey, guys,” Remus said, and ruffled their hair. “Now come on, off you get.” They immediately let go and let him make his way to the living room. Charlie grabbed a stuffed dragon and thrust it into Remus’ face as soon as he sat down.

“Look! It’s a dragon! Daddy got it for me from _Romania_!”

Remus raised his eyebrows and looked suitably impressed. “Really? What’s his name?”

Charlie pouted. “ _She’s_ called Norberta, and she’s the best dragon ever!”

“Who are _you_?” Bill interrupted, staring at Sirius, who looked like a startled rabbit.

“This is Sirius, Bill,” Remus said quickly, “he’s my friend.” He shot Sirius a reassuring glance, which, thankfully, Sirius caught, and visibly relaxed.

“Hey, kid.”

Bill frowned. “I’m not little! I’m seven and a half, stupid.”

Sirius looked stunned. “Should we tell his mum? He’s not allowed to talk like that to people, right? My mum would have bounced me off the wall if I… or… not,” he added, seeing Remus’ expression. “Does that not happen here?”

“No, Sirius,” Molly said gently, from where she had entered. “It doesn’t.”

They stood in awkward silence until Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, then… shall we start?”

“Oh - yes, of course.” Molly hurried into the kitchen and came out with three piled plates, which she set on the table, followed by Arthur, carrying three more, and one smaller bowl without any potatoes. “Sirius, you and Remus sit where you want. I'm sure the boys will direct you.”

The boys snapped into action, arguing over which seat was best for them both, and laying claim to the ‘special’ chair, which Arthur then sat in, much to their disgust.

Eventually, they were all seated and happy, and they sank into quiet. Remus was watching Sirius, who refused to meet anyone’s eye. He was trying to think of ways to start a conversation when Molly saved him the trouble.

“So, Sirius, where do you come from?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a much better chapter imo
> 
> u may disagree
> 
> but i'm much happier and much more organised
> 
> also your comments are so nice and cute and ugh thank you all so much :)

Sirius cleared his throat, and tried to smile, ducking his head when he realised everyone was watching him. “Uh, London. Up in Islington. The house is really old; been in the Black family for ages.”

“Did you like it?” Molly asked.

He grinned. “Nah, not really. Too many expensive things I could break, and no one but my brother to play with. Boarding school was okay though.”

Molly narrowed her eyes. “Surely you missed home?”

“Oh - yeah, of course, obviously. It’s just boarding school was a bit of a - break, I guess. An adventure, you could say.”

“I'm sure as a boy, it was fun,” Arthur said, looking from Molly to Sirius. “What did you do afterwards?”

“Well, I was about to go to drama school, but my parents told me it wasn’t a ‘stable’ career, so I decided to teach instead.”

Molly smiled. “But if you had become an actor, you never would have met Remus. Poor boy’s been a bit lacking in going out recently, I've noticed.”

It was a good thing Sirius was looking at Molly, because the look Remus shot her was nothing short of pure terror. “Molly -”

“Shush, Remus, I'm having a conversation with your friend.” Remus slumped back into his seat and shot Arthur a disbelieving glance, to which he responded with a half-hearted shrug. “Honestly, sometimes I'll have to go round and cook him a proper meal because I haven’t seen him leave the house in four days. And the mess! You’d think a family of ten lived there.” She shook her head affectionately at him. “Don’t tell me I have to come and clean your house too, young man.”

Sirius laughed a little. “Uh, no. I've only been in my flat a couple of months, so it’s still full of boxes I need to unpack.”

“Well, there’s something you two could do, instead of being cooped up at your desks all day. You youngsters need to be _doing_ something, or you’ll end up with bad backs, like Arthur and me.”

“Yeah, but Mummy, you're _old_ ,” Bill interjected, pushing his broccoli around his plate, “All old people have creaky backs.”

Molly raised her spoon mock-threateningly. “You’ll be on dishwasher duty if you're not careful, young man. Finish up your broccoli.”

Bill’s face froze, and he started scooping broccoli into his mouth at double speed, while Molly and Arthur laughed.

“They don’t have a dishwasher, so whoever’s been the worst has to help Molly with the dishes,” Remus explained to Sirius. “It’s usually a big task, so it motivates the boys to behave.”

“And the _soap monster_!” Charlie blurted, looking anxious. “You can't forget about him!”

“The - soap monster?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, wide-eyed. “If you don’t do the dishes properly, he comes and fills your room with lots and lots and lots of dirty dishes! Mummy said so,” he added importantly, “that’s how you know it’s really real.”

Remus bit back a grin at Sirius' utterly confused look. Molly caught his look and smiled knowingly. “Well, I think that Remus and Sirius can handle the soap monster today, Charlie, if you want to help Mummy sort out the pudding.”

Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, me and Norberta can help!” He got down from the table and rushed into the sitting room, returning a moment later with his dragon, making the sounds of flying and, for some reason, a train engine. “She likes treacle tart best!”

Remus stuffed a carrot in his mouth to keep from laughing, and nearly choked. Sirius looked up at just the wrong time, to see him dribbling in an attempt to keep from asphyxiating and dropping dead at the Weasley’s table. “You okay there, Moons?”

“Mfff-hmm.”

“Come on then; can't miss dessert.” And with the grace of an experienced waiter, Sirius balanced three plates on each arm and gestured to the rest, before twirling and making his way into the kitchen. Remus finally swallowed the carrot, and jumped up to help, ignoring Molly’s offers of assistance. Laden with plates, he staggered into the kitchen, where Sirius was already at work, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of cranberry sauce.

“Didn’t you have servants to do this for you?” Remus quipped. He imagined Sirius, with his upper-class accent and his boarding school background, had to have lived in a huge mansion with three dozen servants waiting on him hand and foot.

So it was a complete surprise when Sirius said “Only on Mondays. The rest of the time, me and my brother did it. One of the many things we had to do to get dessert.” He laughed dryly.

Remus looked over at him, and even though Sirius couldn’t see him, he hunched his shoulders. “I'm fine, Remus, really. Don’t worry about me.”

“I was -”

“So is the food always this good here? Because I don’t mind babysitting duty, if leftovers are included,” Sirius said quickly.

“Are you boys nearly done?” Molly asked, bustling into the kitchen, two boys at her heels.

“Yeah, almost,” Sirius said, turning to her. “I was talking to Remus about his babysitting duties.”

Molly patted Remus on the arm. “He never fails to impress.”

Since Remus had moved into his house two years ago, he’d babysat for the Weasley’s approximately forty seven times, the first time being when Charlie was just two years old, and halfway through his hour of babysitting, had needed his nappy changing. That had resulted in a disaster which took three rolls of toilet paper, a pack of baby wipes and several edible bribes made to Bill to fix. It was an experience they had both sworn to never discuss again, and so far Bill was keeping his promise.

He smiled awkwardly at the memory. “Always trying my best.”

“Well, we can't stand here and talk about your babysitting skills all day, can we? Tea or coffee, Sirius?”

“Uh - coffee’s fine. Three sugars, please.”

“No problem.” Molly shooed them out of the kitchen with a box of biscuits, and before they reached the living room Sirius leaned in and whispered “You're telling me about your babysitting antics later, got it?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

* * *

“Really Mrs Weasley -”

“It’s Molly, dear, and of course you can; we have enough leftovers to feed an army.”

Sirius heaved a sigh, and accepted a wrapped piece of treacle tart on top of the two Tupperwares full of remnants of the lunch. “I won't need to go shopping for a month, at least.”

“Well, you're a young man, so I expect it shouldn’t take you too long to finish it all. The treacle tart shouldn’t last until Monday, by the way you two wolfed it down.”

Remus got up from the couch, much to the dismay of Bill and Charlie, who had just been playing Dragons and Goblins, and so far the battle was at stalemate. “I should probably head off too, Molly; marking and all that.”

“Oh, of course, sweetheart. Let me just get you some leftovers too.” Molly hurried back into the kitchen, and Remus was dragged back to the battle. The stakes had been heightened by the fact that the Dragons now had the backup of the Tinkerer, aka Arthur, who had brought down his toy soldiers and was currently mounting a sneak attack on the Goblins, and so Remus had to regroup troops for a defensive formation on the western front. Sirius placed down his Tupperwares and came to sit between the two bases, occasionally launching a surprise attack against either side.

Once Molly returned with his dinners for the next month, both he and Sirius got up and left amidst an argument over who won Living Room War 1. They both stepped outside to grey drizzle and dark skies, and Sirius looked disheartened, probably about having to walk to the bus stop in the rain. Remus hesitated for a second, then thought ‘fuck it’. “You want to come in for a bit?”

Sirius smiled slightly. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

* * *

So that’s how they ended up on Remus’ couch, a bottle of wine between them, and shit TV playing in the background. They talked about mundane things - school, work, how crap the show they were watching was; nothing serious, and they were just a little bit tipsy and not very careful.

Sirius hummed a little, and swung his legs up onto the sofa, leaning back into Remus’ side. “You know, I don’t think I've ever had a more relaxed evening in my life.”

“Really? Pretty much all my evenings are like this, unless I've got marking.”

“Nah. There was always something I had to do, or some party I was invited to. It was an excuse to just get out of my dorm room and not have to stare at the wall for an evening. My roommate was so boring. He was fit, so it didn’t really matter.” He suddenly sat bolt upright, frowning. “You - don’t have a problem with it, right? ‘Cause if you do I'm just gonna -”

“Mate, chill,” Remus said, “I already knew. James talks about everyone’s business far too much. And if I did have a problem, I'd have to have one with myself, so…”

Sirius relaxed, and slumped down against him again. “Fuckin’ Prongs.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I love the guy, but he cannot keep a secret at all. One time he told this Sixth Form guy I had a crush on him, and he had chilli powder in his jeans for weeks.”

Sirius lapsed into giggles. “Y’know, you're cool Remus, you know that?”

“Huh?”

He yawned. “Yeah, you and your friends. Peter kept making faces at me through the door to my room. Nearly lost my shit when he pulled the rat mask out.”

Remus grinned. “He’s had that since Year Eight. It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

So Remus started to tell him, until he realised two minutes later Sirius had fallen asleep. He debated whether to wake him up, but decided against it.

Telling himself he’d wake Sirius up in twenty minutes, Remus let his head drop against the couch and fell asleep along with him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm back and ready to write more of this trash
> 
> jk this fic is actually something i'm proud of go me
> 
> idk if it even counts as a warning but sirius references past child abuse very mildly
> 
> thank you all for your comments you're all so lovely

Ugh. Wine headaches. Remus considered them the worst things to wake up to, apart from possibly the apocalypse.

Where even was he? That didn’t look like his bedroom ceiling. And why was his neck hurting so much? He opened his eyes fully and suddenly became very aware of where he was and who was currently snoring on his lap. He looked down and smiled a little. Sirius was curled up on his sofa, head on his legs, still with his shoes on. Stretching out slowly, Remus caught sight of the time on his oven. Ten past eight. They were so late.

“Shit! Sirius, wake the fuck up!”

Sirius woke up with a start. “Moony? What -” He saw the clock, and his eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

“Come on, if we hurry we can still make it on time.” Remus ran up the stairs two at a time, changed and brushed his teeth in record time, grabbed his bag, and made it back downstairs to Sirius still stood in the living room, looking lost. “What are you doing?”

Sirius shrugged helplessly. “Don’t have any clothes on me, and my flat is half an hour away.”

Remus thought fast. “Hold on.” He went back upstairs and opened his wardrobe. Sirius was a good few inches shorter than him, so he’d have to find his clothes from uni and hope they'd fit. He found jeans and a shirt in roughly his size, but the only jumper he could find was a dark orange woollen jumper found in the back of his wardrobe. With no better option presenting itself, he jogged back down the stairs and thrust the outfit at Sirius. “Should be fine for today. Toilet’s just down the hall, in the door under the stairs.”

“Thanks, Moons.”

“No problem. Now hurry up!”

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, and made his way to the bathroom. In the three minutes it took him to dress, Remus had downed a cup of coffee, and eaten some bread and jam. He shooed Sirius out the door, and they raced to the bus stop, just in time to catch the 56. They dropped into their seats, panting.

“Next time, you set an alarm.”

“Sure,” Sirius replied absently, his head already planted on Remus’ shoulder. He was asleep again in two minutes, and his snoring attracted the attention of many other passengers. Remus did the best he could to shut him up, but everything failed, and so he just shrugged apologetically at the rest of the bus.

Ten minutes later, when they were around halfway to school, an old woman got onto the bus and sat opposite Remus, pulling out her knitting. She peered over her glasses at Sirius, and turned to Remus. “Sweet as your boyfriend is, pet, he sounds like a dying walrus when he sleeps. Wake him up, would you?”

Remus obediently went to do as he was told, until what the woman said sank in. “Uh - he’s not my -”

“You're very sweet as well, dear, lending your jumper to him, but you should take care of yourself too. You look cold.”

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but the old woman just looked at him over her spectacles, so he just shut up. Sirius stopped snoring and mumbled a little in his sleep, curling up closer to Remus.

The old woman smiled and picked up her knitting.

Sirius slept until the bus pulled up outside the school, and was still yawning when they got off. A thought seemed to strike him just as they got to the front doors, however, and he turned to Remus with wide eyes.

“I have literally none of the stuff I was supposed to bring for lessons, _and_ I've got a full day today. What am I gonna do?”

Remus shrugged. “Well, you're the drama teacher. Improvise.”

Sirius huffed. “It’s not _quite_ that simple, Moons -”

The bell rang, cutting him off. “Shit.”

Remus smirked. “Race you to the office.”

“Oh, come - Remus!”

* * *

“So what have you got planned for half term?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said, “I've got marking coming up to my neck at the moment, so I guess I'll just stay at home.”

“Even for Halloween?”

Sirius laughed dryly. “My family didn’t do Halloween. My mother said it was tacky, and slammed the door on trick-or-treaters.”

“Seriously?” For as long as Remus could remember, he always had something going on for Halloween, whether that was trick-or-treating with his parents, or, when he was  older, going to parties with James and Peter. Most of those times were fun, apart from one year when someone spiked the punch and they ended up on school property, shoeless and toilet-papering the Art building at three am. James claimed innocence, but Remus had a pretty clear memory of him carrying two suspiciously clanking plastic bags into the party earlier in the evening.

“Yeah. My family was really festive, as you can tell.” He picked up his coffee mug, and stared at the pile of boxes he currently had his feet up on. “We really should be getting on with that.”

Remus groaned. “Later.”

Sirius had invited him over to his flat to help him with the unpacking he’d finally found the motivation to start. Remus had initially complained about it, but agreed when bribed with coffee. So far, they'd unpacked the cutlery and the cushions, but the rest were currently shoved into a corner of the living room.

“At this rate, I'm going to end up making furniture out of cutlery and cushions. Get up.” Sirius drained his mug, and stood up. “Come on, lazy, let’s go.” He rolled up his sleeves and tugged Remus off of the sofa, ignoring his grumbles of dissent. “So, you start in here, and I'll deal with the kitchen.”

“Fine.” Remus turned to face the Everest of box piles in front of him and sighed. This was going to take him a while.

After about an hour, many stubbed toes and every curse word under the sun being used, Remus finally dumped the last item - a foldaway chair - on the floor and straightened up. He could still hear clanking coming from the kitchen, so he made his way in to see Sirius with a pot on his head and a spatula held up like a sword.

“En garde!”

Remus just looked at him. “Really.”

“Yes, really. I’m bored and you're going to help me relieve myself. Now grab a wooden spoon and a chopping board and joust with me!”

Remus rolled his eyes, but picked up the spoon and board nonetheless. He made half-hearted jabs at Sirius, and even more half-hearted blocks, much to his disgust.

“Moony, you're not trying.”

“Maybe because I can see how dumb this is, and that you should be concentrating on unpacking; the reason you invited me here, remember?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Sirius grinned, and carried on with his incredibly stupid - at least, in Remus’ opinion - game, to which Remus steadfastly continued to be half-hearted in.

Then came a pretty swift blow to his left shoulder, which he dodged out of instinct, making Sirius eyes gleam. From then on he was a bit more active, parrying the oh-so-lethal stabs from the spatula, and getting in a few good hits as well.

By this time, the fight had moved into the living room, so there was the added bonus of breakable objects to avoid. The ‘weapons’ had all but been abandoned now, and it had soon devolved into a wrestling match. It seemed that Sirius was going to win until Remus managed to hook his foot around Sirius' ankle and sweep him off his feet, but didn’t quite account for the fact that Sirius still had his arms locked on his, so he ended up falling right on top of him, knocking the wind out of both of them.

There followed a slightly awkward moment in which Sirius realised he still had his hands on Remus’ biceps, and Remus discovered that not only did he have his knee dangerously close to Sirius’ balls, he also was subject to the torture that was seeing Sirius Black close up whilst he was breathless and his hair was tousled.

Ah yes. Definitely torture.

He tried to push himself off of Sirius, but he seemingly was frozen and refused to let him go. Remus, apparently suffering from lack of oxygen to his brain, smiled and tapped Sirius’ chest. “Okay, big boy, no need to get possessive.”

Sirius’ eyes widened.

Oh dear.

Sirius let go abruptly, and Remus rolled off him. He sat up, avoiding his eyes. “Uh, so -”

“We should -”

“Yeah -”

“I'll just -”

“Sorry.”

Sirius smiled weakly. “S’okay. We should - keep unpacking.”

“Sure.”

* * *

“Ughhhhh.” Remus sat back on his heels and breathed a sigh of relief. The final box had been unpacked and his back was now free to complain for the next three days.

“Having fun?” Sirius asked from the study doorway. He at some point had taken off his shoes, and was dressed in sweatpants and Remus’ orange jumper that he still hadn’t returned after three weeks. He made Remus’ heart hurt a little. “Are you hungry?”

Remus hummed. “Sure.”

“Is Chinese okay?”

“I -”

“Because I kind of already ordered because I'm really hungry but I can just order pizza if you want and -”

“I was going to say it sounds great.”

“Oh. Well. Okay.” Sirius nodded to himself, and took a step back, smacking his head against the wall. “Ow.”

Remus shook his head fondly. “You're an idiot.”

Sirius mumbled something, and nodded again. “I'll just -” He gestured to the hallway. “Yeah.” He disappeared down the hallway, muttering to himself.

Remus smiled, and got up to go join him.

The flat was light and airy, much more modern than you would expect for that part of town. Sirius’ mismatched furniture gave the place a certain charm, although Remus did have to cringe at the seventies-style plastic table being paired with a white Victorian type chair and a brown and blue stool. Quite a lot of the kitchen and living room was like that, old haphazardly mixing with new, not always in a good way. Remus found him sprawled out on a small couch, face smushed into a cushion.

“You alright?”

Sirius sat up, head flopping over the back of the couch to look at Remus. “Exhausted, really. This is the only free night I've had so far this week, _and_ I've got assessments to do for Sixth Form on Wednesday. Why did I ever decide to do this?”

“Because you're an idiot.”

“I mean, fair enough, but still. Maybe I should just fake my death and live out the rest of my days on a deserted island with a pet monkey as company.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Now you're just being dramatic.”

“I _am_ dramatic, Moon-pie, it’s my job,” Sirius retorted. He stared at Remus for a moment before sighing, letting his head drop back onto the sofa. “I wish I was seventeen again. Good times.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. As far as he knew, Sirius’ life up until he was eighteen hadn’t been the greatest. “What happened at seventeen?”

“First boyfriend. God, he was fit. It was actually a friend of the guy I used to sneak out with. He was living on his own, so when I could get out of school, we were usually alone, and -”

“Don’t think I need details, Sirius,” Remus said hurriedly. The last thing he needed was to imagine Sirius like that. Even if he did actually have a chance, it wasn’t like Sirius was interested. He’d mortified him enough today, for god’s sake. “How long’d it last?”

Sirius smiled at the ceiling. “Not long. He left for uni the summer of Year Twelve, and I met him around the April of that year. Wasn’t a big deal, though; I dated a guy in my class for a while in the September, and that got a little more serious, but not as much as the last guy. That got - intense, to say the least.

“He kinda - led me on into running away the first time. Yeah,” he added, “there was more than one time. I, uh, went running back after we broke up; he kicked me out and I didn’t really have anywhere to go. My mum, she - well, she flat out hated me by then, so I had to do all I could to get by. She'd stopped doing anything for me, and if I got caught doing anything she deemed ‘inappropriate’, well, things got ugly.” He shut his eyes.

“What… about your dad?” Remus asked tentatively.

Sirius snorted derisively. “He wasn’t any help. He was pretty traditional; stood by the old rules and all that. Said that a son betraying his family was the worst thing you could do, and that as far as he was concerned, I wasn’t his son anymore. He pretty much ignored me from then out; never even acknowledged me when I asked him a question. Which was fine with me; I was just getting by with Mum being the way she was. They refused to let me finish my last year at my old school, and moved me to a local one, so they could keep an eye on me. I ran away twice that year, and both times I got dragged back by Mum. And then I had to choose a career, but she wanted me to be a lawyer and even filled out forms for me to do that, so I just picked up and left. I was eighteen, and I'd saved up enough money to rent a flat in Havering. Couldn’t afford drama school, though, and it wasn’t like I was going to ask my parents for money, so I decided to be a teacher instead. Not the life I was looking for, but hey, I'm away from them.” Sirius didn’t look sad after finishing his story, instead he was hard-faced and bitter-looking.

“What cunts,” was the first thing that came out of Remus’ mouth. He walked over to the sofa and sat next to Sirius, who didn’t look up.

“Y’know, you're one of the only ones I've told this to. The rest get the version I told the Weasley’s, or I ignore ‘em.”

The fact that Sirius trusted him enough to tell him what had happened to him made Remus’s heart both swell and ache. He couldn’t understand how someone as spirited as Sirius had been through something so crushing. Then again, he thought, everyone dealt with things differently, and Sirius’ way was clearly to shove it all down and refuse to acknowledge it. “I won't tell anyone.”

He half smiled, and turned his head to look at Remus. “Thanks, Moons.”

Remus put an arm around him hesitantly. Sirius leaned into him, sighing. “’S okay.”

They stayed like that for a while, until the doorbell rang, and Sirius went down to collect the Chinese. Remus stayed upstairs, sorting out cutlery, but mostly turning Sirius' story over in his head. During dinner, they avoided the subject, instead talking about pointless shit, like work, and students.

Remus was casting around for something to talk about, anything to not talk about Sirius' story, when he remembered the little black dog. "Hey Sirius?"

"Mmm?"

"Where did you get the little stuffed dog in our office?"

Sirius looked a little surprised for a moment, and Remus worried he'd said the wrong thing. But then he smiled, and Remus relaxed fractionally. "My brother sent it to me for my birthday when I was twelve. He stitched the name himself."

"How old was he?"

"Ten. He wanted to send me fireworks, but Mum wouldn't let him." At Remus' confused look, he added "My birthday's the third of November."

"Ah, right." That was soon. Only a few weeks away, in fact. What could Remus get him?

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't hear Sirius talking to him. "Moons."

"Hmm?"

"I said did you want dessert? There's ice cream in the freezer."

"Is that even a question?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me a month i have no excuse other than i started to write another fic and lost inspiration
> 
> i am back though with a pretty good chapter i would say
> 
> so
> 
> enjoy remus freaking out over birthday presents :)

Half term came quickly, not that Remus noticed; he was up to his neck in marking. He didn’t see much of Sirius, either, since A-level assessments had started, he’d barely left his classroom. Peter and James had their own marking to do, so Lily took it upon herself to drag Remus out, with the excuse that he’d never leave his house otherwise.

So that was why they were stood in Tesco, Lily dithering over different kinds of blueberries, and Remus freaking out over Sirius’ birthday, which was in ten days.

“Goddamnit, Lily, what do I do?”

“Dorset or Cornwall?”

“I – Lily!”

“Hm?” Lily’s head snapped up. “Oh, come on, Remus, he’ll be happy with anything; that boy is so smitten with you he’d be pleased with your presence alone.”

Remus chose to ignore that comment, picking up a pack of blueberries and tossing them into the trolley. “Got the blueberries. What’s next?”

Lily checked the list James had given them. “Uh – goddamnit, why did I marry a man with doctor’s handwriting – I think it says Smith apples, but don’t hold me to that.”

“You know he’s going to kill us both if we don’t get this correct, right?”

“Nope.” Lily smirked. “I'm pregnant, I get a free pass. You, on the other hand…”

“I hate you.”

“Look, we’ll just get the Smith apples, then go and look for Wonder Boy’s present, okay?”

“Fine.”

* * *

Apparently blueberries weren’t enough for Lily, because they ended up going back for two jars of pickles and a bottle of Vimto. They didn’t manage to get much in the way of gifts, but it was fine. After all, he still had ten days.

* * *

“Hey, Sirius.” Remus had invited Sirius over for coffee, mainly to ask him about his birthday, but he’d be lying if it wasn’t just a little bit to do with appreciating Sirius in his casualwear.

“Yeah?” Sirius was sprawled out on the couch, mug in his hands. The fire was lit, and his feet were up on the coffee table.

“So I was wondering –”

_I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIIIIIS –_

“What the fuck?!”

_I WANT YOU TO SHOW MEEEEEEE –_

“Fucking James!” Sirius launched himself over to the counter and picked it up, wincing at the volume. “Hang on, Moons. James you bastard,” he said to the phone.

Remus could hear hysterical laughter on the other end and hid a smile. They talked for a bit, mentioning several inside jokes Remus didn’t quite get, including something about a stag and a dog trapped in a banister. Sirius finally hung up after telling James he hated him about five times. “Sorry, Moons, what was it you wanted to say?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if, y’know, you wanted anything for your birthday.”

He stared, and laughed softly. “Moons, you don’t need to get me anything.”

Remus sighed. “Yeah, but I want to. Now come on, Black, tell me what you want. Anything.”

Sirius’ eyes darkened a little, but soon cleared. He huffed, stretching out and putting his feet on Remus’ lap. “Hmm… anything?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I have always wanted a sugar daddy –”

“Sirius!”

“- but I guess I could settle for a new motorbike helmet.”

Okay. Remus could do that. Eight days should be long enough to find a nice bike helmet. Wait. “You have a motorbike?”

“Yeah, didn’t I mention it?”

“No…”

Sirius’ eyes gleamed. “Well –”

“No.”

“Aw come on, Moons!”

“Absolutely not.”

He sighed. “Fine. One day, though.”

“In your dreams.”

Eight days. He could so do this.

* * *

“What do you mean, _you already bought it_?”

James shrugged. “We accidentally smashed his other one, so I thought I’d buy him one. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because his birthday is in _five days_ , James, and I haven’t got him anything, and this was the one thing I knew he wanted.”

“Well, my dear Moony, you are _screwed_.”

“And how did you manage to _smash_ a bike helmet?”

* * *

“What if he doesn’t like it?”

“You're overreacting, Remus. Everyone loves parties.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But it’s not going to be a huge party; we’re having it at your house, remember? Plus we’ll have pizza.”

“But –”

“For once in my life, Remus, I'm going to be the assertive one. It’s going to be fine.”

“What if –”

“ _Remus._ ” Peter was looking at him with an uncharacteristically stern look on his face. Remus shifted a little and sighed. He was right; which was unusual for Peter when it came to emotional issues, but right enough.

“Okay.”

* * *

“Are you okay, Moons? You looked stressed.”

“Huh?” Remus jumped, turning to see Sirius stood next to the kitchen table, two mugs in hand. “When did you get here?”

“Twenty minutes ago, Moons. Remember? You asked me to come over; something about ‘prep driving you crazy’. You’ve been muttering to yourself for five minutes whilst I’ve been making coffee.”

“Ah, sorry.” He accepted the mug gratefully, and looked over the rim as Sirius sank into a chair. “Just.. m’tired. Not well either, plus you're a horrible person to buy for.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “I already told you what I wanted, right?”

“Yeah, well, I'm not a white suburban mum who coordinates birthday presents, so.” He took a sip, and pulled a face. “Is there _anything_ you want, other than lessons on how to make a cup of coffee?”

“Sorry.” Sirius sighed, staring at the ceiling. “Nah, not really. Kinda went off birthday presents after I moved out; reminds me of how much me and Reg were spoilt.”

“How much? Like a ‘TV each’ level spoilt?”

He snorted. “More like ‘thirty gifts each’ level of spoilt.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah. We had a whole room dedicated to presents we never used. I know,” he said, when Remus’ mouth dropped open, “Trust me, when I left home, I tried to take as much as I could to sell. Half of the room didn’t fit into six black bin bags.”

“That’s… wow.”

“Yeah.” Sirius sighed again, shifting his gaze to the window. “I’m kinda – lonely, y’know? I miss having a boyfriend, or at least someone to cuddle. No offence,” he said to Remus, “you're a great cuddler; I just – I don’t know. Maybe I miss the feeling of being able to just make out with the person I'm cuddling, I don’t really know.”

Remus could empathise; not three weeks ago he’d been dreaming about having someone to come home to every night. It didn’t exactly help that he was thinking about that person being Sirius, however. “Yeah, me too.”

Sirius dropped his head on his hand. “The festive season’s gonna suck; ‘s not like I can go home for the holidays.”

Remus had an idea. Not a smart one, or a wise one in terms of his emotions, but hey, when was he ever known for good decisions? “Well – if you want – I’m gonna be with James and Lily for Christmas, and Pete’ll be there, so, if you want to, you're more than welcome.”

Sirius’ face was blank, but his eyes were hopeful. “You don’t think James or Lily’ll mind?”

“Are you kidding? They’re the Potters; James’ll probably slap you for even needing to ask in the first place.”

“Well,” Sirius said, smiling, “guess that’s Christmas sorted.”

“Oh, speaking of; James asked me to invite you to his parents’ place tomorrow. It’s Diwali, and they heard about you and want you to come along.”

“Diwali?”

“Yeah, the festival of light. They were going to go back to India this year to celebrate, but his mum isn’t really that well, so they’re doing it here instead.”

“Oh, well, in that case, count me in, it sounds cool.”

“Plus Mrs P makes great food, so it’s win-win really; they get to fawn over you and you get free food.”

“Perfect.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello welcome back how are you all
> 
> i'm really sorry i forgot i was meant to be writing a diwali chapter until halfway through this
> 
> i hope this fluff/angst makes up for it a little

“Remus, the present is fine.”

“It’s narcissistic, he’s going to think I'm vain oh god oh –”

“ _Remus._ ” Lily smacked him upside the head, James looking on approvingly. “He’s going to like it, okay? If by some miracle he doesn’t, we’ll just get him so hammered he won’t even realise it’s his birthday, okay?”

“It’s Thursday.”

“Yeah, and tomorrow is a course that only I’m going on, so for the rest of you, it’s a free country.” She looked bitter, and added “Plus, I’ve heard that alcohol isn’t great for unborn kids.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“ _Call him_!” James and Peter chorused.

Remus shot them a venomous look, and picked up the phone, ringing Sirius’ number. He answered on the first ring, sounding out of breath. “Moons?”

“Uh, you alright?”

“Yeah, just had to… get something. What’s up?”

“Since it’s your birthday, do you want to come round mine tonight? Just for a couple of drinks and stuff.”

“Thanks, Moons, but I’ve got a pile of stuff to do, and I can’t take a night off.” Sirius sounded like he was wavering a little, though, Remus thought, so he kept pushing.

“Well, tomorrow’s a course day for Lily, so we get the day off. Come on, it’s your birthday, loosen up a little. Please?” he added, and Sirius sighed.

“Okay, fine, you’ve convinced me.” Remus could hear the smile in his voice. “But if I end up smothered with work, you have to help me with it.”

“Deal. See you at six-ish?”

“Sure thing, Moons. See you.”

Remus hung up, and turned to the others. “We have two hours to get everything sorted. Everyone knows what they’re doing, right?” They all nodded. “Let’s do it then.”

They weren’t going all out for the party; just a couple of balloons and a banner that James had pulled from somewhere, and pizza that Peter got from a place he claimed did the ‘best pizza in the world’. Lily had made a cake under James’ strict supervision, and the end result was an actually edible chocolate cake, something that Sirius had mentioned in passing was one of his favourites. Remus wasn’t allowed into the kitchen to help; he’d already stolen a quarter of the icing they were going to use, earning him a whack from a baking tray, courtesy of James. So, he ran around trying to make sure that the bottom floor was tidy, and by that he meant clear away all the shoes he never bothered to pick up after he kicked them off.

At half past five, everything was ready, and Remus had time to relax, which meant more paranoid thoughts could enter his head. He got more and more tense, until Peter plopped down next to him and nudged his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, mate? Still worried about later?”

“Yeah. No. I dunno.” He sighed, letting himself fall back against the sofa. “Just – he deserves a nice birthday, and I – I just want it to be okay.”

Peter smiled. “You sound like James in Year Twelve. Remember that?”

“Do I remember the sleepovers we had when _all_ he’d talk about was Lily, and that one horrific night when we got drunk and he thought I was her? Yeah.”

He winced. “Okay, so maybe that night is something we can all forget. Still, it was a little sweet, right? You’re just trying to do something nice, and it doesn’t matter that you're into him or –”

“What? Wait –”

“- whatever, all I know is that he’ll love it, okay? Don’t argue with me, Lupin,” he said, when Remus opened his mouth, “you know I'm right.”

“Whatever.”

“Told ya.” Peter grinned, and smacked his shoulder. “Now, stop freaking out, and –”

The doorbell rang, and promptly sent Remus into a frenzy. “James, Lily, Peter, get in the kitchen, and take the fucking balloons!” They did as they were told, and by the second ring of the doorbell, everything was ready. Remus took a breath, and opened the door.

Sirius was stood there, hands in the pockets of possibly the _tightest_ pair of jeans Remus had ever seen, and he choked a little on his words. “Uh – hey. Hi. Come in.” He stepped aside, if only to _not look at his legs._ He led him into the slightly dim room, and turned to see Sirius uncomfortably close.

“Remus –”

“SURPRISE!” The others burst out of the kitchen, brandishing balloons. Sirius’ eyes widened, and a startled grin took over his face.

“Moony, did you plan this?” He nodded, and Sirius’ grin grew. “Thank you. I –”

“Present time!” James interrupted, thrusting a large box into his hands. Sirius took it and unwrapped it, smile growing even larger as he took out the black helmet, complete with stars on the back of it.

“You remembered! Aw, cheers James!” They hugged, and Remus tried not to feel jealous, or nervous about his own gift, retrieving it from the kitchen.

Lily gave him a couple of picture frames for his flat – “great, now I don’t have to use blu-tack on everything” – and Peter gave him a cookbook, saying something about a lasagne incident – “Peter, you rat, you said you wouldn’t mention it” – and finally, it was Remus’ turn.

It wasn’t even wrapped properly; he’d put it into some newspaper and hastily sellotaped it. Didn’t seem to matter to Sirius, though; he tore into it, and when he got to the present, his eyes softened.

Remus had given him a small stuffed wolf. He’d spent ages trying to find one as small as Sirius’, that had resulted in about three breakdowns in the centre of the flea market. Eventually, right when he was about to go home, he’d spotted a tiny soft statuette, leaning back on its hind legs. He’d bought it on the spot, and now he was looking at Sirius’ face, waiting for him to say something.

Instead, he was smothered by Sirius, hugging him so tightly he couldn’t breathe. “Thanks, Moony,” he whispered, “I love it.”

* * *

Remus wasn’t quite sure how much he’d had to drink – he was sure that he didn’t have _that_ much alcohol in the house – but he definitely felt lighter than usual. Lily was the only one who was sober, albeit grudgingly, and she, Peter and James were sat in the living room, playing some game that James kept losing and getting playfully mad at. Remus and Sirius were in the kitchen, Remus with a glass of water, and Sirius with another glass of wine.

“Y’know, Moons, you’ve got cute eyes.” Sirius had gotten steadily more flirty them more he drank, and although Remus knew he was only doing it because he was drunk, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I – thanks, Sirius.”

“You're just cute, like, all over. Your jumpers’re really cute, like they’re way too big for you, even though you're like, a giant. And like, I like your hair, ‘specially when it’s really curly. Like it was at Diwali. Diwali was really fun; I wanna do it again.”

Diwali _had_ been really fun; the Potters, as Remus had predicted, fawned over Sirius and kept giving him more and more food. Part of the reason Remus loved it so much was that Mrs Potter was amazing at cooking, and with the help of James, they’d made enough food to feed an army, _and_ they got leftovers, which was all Remus had been eating since the thirtieth. Sirius had seemed to love the lighting of the lamps, and especially the setting off the firecrackers. There had been a particularly memorable Diwali when they were fifteen, when James had thought that setting them off in a greasy kid called Snape’s garden would be the best prank ever. Unfortunately, one of them had hit the summer house and the swing set, nearly getting them caught. No one had ever found out about it, and they all swore to each other to take that night to the grave.

“Me too. You can come next year, I reckon; they loved you.”

Sirius nodded, smiling dazedly. “Yeah. Then ‘m going to get to see you with the firecrackers again. You looked pretty. Was worried you’d catch your hair on fire, though. Be a national tragedy.”

“I think you need a glass of water, Sirius.” If he wasn’t careful, Remus would end up blurting something out that he would _seriously_ regret in the morning, so he got up and went to the sink, filling a new glass up.

“I like you, y’know.”

Remus set the glass down and turned. Sirius was staring at his wine glass, looking miserable. “I like you a lot. S’not because I’m drunk, but might be a reason why I'm telling you. S’why I wasn’t talking to you for a bit; didn’t want to scare you off, bu’ I think it did anyway. Don’t have the best track record with these things; hell, my last boyfriend kissed me for the first time when we were both smashed. Don’ want it to be like that with you – you're my mate as well, and so’s James and Peter and Lils. Don’ wanna ruin it.”

Remus didn’t say anything. He tried to, but whenever he opened his mouth, nothing came out. So he stood there, watching Sirius’ expression become sadder and sadder. “I –”

“Heeeeey!” James swaggered into the room, a pair of sunglasses that definitely weren’t his on top of his head. “What’d I miss?”

Sirius visibly cheered up, and he jumped up. “Nothin’, me n’ Remus were just getting emotional.”

“That’s no fun, though.” James pouted. “Come on, me and Pete’re trying to see who can slide downstairs the fastest!”

They stumbled out, giggling, leaving Remus behind.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well damn, hi.
> 
> it's been a very very very long time since i've updated this, or anything, really. and i don't really have much of a reason, except that i just kind of lost interest, and i had school, etc, etc.
> 
> but it's summer so! hello! i've been editing some people's fics, and that kind of gave me inspiration to start writing again and my partner, @bakrstreetboys, is writing a wolfstar fic rn that i'm editing, so if you wanna go and hop over to that fic, feel free to check out 'daft pretty boys' - aka one of my favourite songs ever :)
> 
> anyway! i've rambled, and this chapter is both a big one, and me getting into the swing of things again, and i'm very grateful if anyone even reads this after how long i've left it lmao

Whoever invented wine headaches needed to be shoved off a cliff, along with the person who invented sunlight.

Sirius groaned, lifting his head marginally from the cushion he had been previously drooling on. He groaned louder when his vision swam and all the fragmented memories from last night came flooding back. He was just getting to a state when he felt he could stand to open his eyes for two minutes when he remembered _Remus in the kitchen confessing he liked his eyes and how he was so cute and that he really liked him and he didn’t want to ruin it –_

“Fuck.” He promptly dropped his head down onto the cushion and grumbled curses under his breath until he’d cursed out God, Mother Nature, Zeus, Merlin, and any other magical being he could think of and felt a little better having got his feelings out. _Time to be a big boy, Black,_ he thought, _there’s only so many times you can wake up in your crush’s house before it gets weird._

He remembered Peter and James leaving; the latter being dragged out by a stone cold sober and highly unimpressed Lily, after he and Sirius had tried to slide down Remus’ banister. Peter had left not too long after, after a rather messy drunken hug with Sirius and an attempted philosophical therapy session with Remus, which was mostly incoherent.

So that left him and Remus. Alone in a house. After a drunken night together, sadly not ending in the more preferred cliché.

Sirius sat up and stretched. If he was going to find Remus and confess his highschool-style crush on the guy, he wanted to at least look like the type of man Remus deserved, and perhaps not the hungover shell of a person that spilled his deepest secrets to a wine bottle. He could never stomach whisky; reminded him too much of dark evenings spent in a stuffy sitting room with an indifferent father and a petrified brother. He shook the past away from his brain, and trudged over to the downstairs bathroom.

His hair was rather a reflection of his thoughts at this point; chaotic and in all directions, with no sense of organisation. Perhaps if he styled it a little, he could even make a faux-Mohican…

No. He was a respectable Drama teacher, with a respectable hairstyle. Mostly.

Enough stalling; he needed to find Remus.

_But what if I brought him coffee? That’d placate anyone._

Maybe a few minutes more stalling. At least until he figured out where the goddamn mugs were kept.

* * *

“Remus?”

There was a grunt from somewhere under the mound of duvet. A few seconds passed, and a disgruntled mop of curly hair popped out from the head of the bed. “Wha’d’ya wan’?”

Sirius chuckled, bringing one of the mugs to the bedside table. “Should’ve known you weren’t a morning person.”

He got another grunt in response, as Remus dragged himself to a sitting position, blinking at him blearily. Sirius sat on the chair at the desk, holding his own mug.

“Thought you left with Peter.”

“Nah, too drunk for that. Think I was gonna go, but I just face-planted into your couch. Thanks for not kicking me out, by the way.”

“Mm. Couldn’t be bothered to take the rubbish out last night,” Remus said, small smile slanted at the edges.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, mock-offended. “At least put me out with the recycling!”

“Nah. Pure, steaming garbage, you are.” That was said with a bit of ice, and Sirius winced.

“Remus, I gotta talk to you.”

“Yeah?” He looked apprehensive, and Sirius didn’t blame him. Drunken confessions of attraction possibly weren’t things Mr Straight-Laced, Respectable-English-Teacher Lupin had to deal with much.

“I – you remember last night?”

“Mostly. Got a bit shitfaced after you and James tried to slide down the stairs.” Sirius winced again; his drunk self really wasn’t the most in tune with people's emotions.

“Well, d’you remember us in the kitchen at all?”

“Mmhm.” Remus sipped his coffee, but the air changed between them. There was a palpable tension in the air now, and they both knew it.

“I – look. I admit it probably wasn’t exactly the most – elegant of confessions, but I meant it.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, and his mouth twitched. “Meant what?”

 _Fuck. He doesn’t remember?_ “The kitchen, the – I poured my heart out to you!”

Remus’ mouth twitched again, and – _oh._ “You bastard.”

Now, he full on smirked, and sat up straight in bed. “Go on. What did you say, exactly? Memory’s a bit foggy still.”

“I hate you.”

“Do you?” There was a challenge there, and Sirius was _so gone_.

“Mmmph. No. I like you.”

“How much?”

“I like your hair, and your eyes, and your general –” he gestured vaguely at Remus “– vibe – don’t you dare laugh, Lupin, I'm confessing to you – and just – you’re cool, and you're my mate, but I also really want to make out with you, y’know?”

Remus’ smirk had faded, to something softer, and he set his mug down. “I've got to say, I didn’t expect you to have the balls to admit it.”

“Ex _cuse me_?”

“If this was those romance novels you like to read – don’t even deny it,” Remus said, as Sirius tried to protest, “we share an office, you can't hide everything – if this was one of those, you’d have run out of my house by now, and spent the next month in an agonising dilemma, until I got nearly killed or something, and you confessed your love for me at my bedside.”

“Okay, that’s extreme, even for me.”

“Nothing’s too extreme for you, Black.” The air changed again, Remus alert and teasing, Sirius relaxed and laughing. “Anyway,” he added, gesturing to the space beside him, “you coming in, or what?”

* * *

“I fucking knew it.”

“Pete, please. How could you know that Sirius –”

“I literally have the bet money here from James and Lily.”

“You WHAT?”

* * *

After the delightful conversation with Peter, Remus went back to his bedroom, where Sirius was lounging in a pair of borrowed jogging bottoms, flicking through _Pride and Prejudice,_ a book that Remus would admit that his students were right about. Austen had never really been his thing; he was, as Sirius put it during one of their lunchtimes spent in the office, “a slut for Charlotte Brontë”.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning against the doorframe. Sirius looked up and smiled, shutting the book.

“Hi.”

“So…” he trailed off, not really knowing what to say. He hadn’t really done the relationship in a while, and they were definitely going backwards – Sirius was already shirtless in his bed and they hadn’t even gone out for dinner yet, much less kissed.

“What’s up Lupin? My Adonis chest distracting you?” Sirius grinned cockily, and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Hardly, Casanova. I was just wondering why I haven’t kissed you yet.”

“Probably because you needed to take a piss right as I got into bed with you, then phoned up Pete like you’re a fourteen year old that got his crush to text him back.”

Remus’ face warmed, and he cleared his throat. “I, ah. No. I mean, did you know they were betting on us?”

Sirius smiled warmly. “Heh, now that I think about it, that does sound like them.”

“To be fair, me and Peter bet on how many times James would ask Lily out in Year Eleven before getting a kick in the balls.”

“Who was closest?”

“Me. Peter guessed fifteen, I guessed three.” Sirius chuckled, and Remus grinned at the memory. He crossed the room to his bed, and poked Sirius’ shoulder. “Shove up.”

Sirius obliged, and soon they were both settled against the headboard, looking at each other.

“Hey, Remus?”

“Mm?”

“I really do like your eyes,” Sirius said, and kissed him.

It was soft, neither of them pushing for anything, and Sirius’ hand came up to the side of Remus’ face to hold him there. Normally, Remus would have worried about where to put his hands, how to position himself, yada yada yada – but Sirius was setting a comforting precedent, and so Remus just went with it.

Nothing particularly escalated, as such – well, Remus might have ended up on top of Sirius, kissing him harder than perhaps was normal for this stage of their relationship – but they both drew apart at the same time, smiling at each other.

“Hey, y’know we’re kinda doing this a bit backwards, right?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius replied.

“So…”

“So?”

“You want to go on a date sometime?”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I’m all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated :)

**Author's Note:**

> have a nice day :)


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